In From the Cold
by CrankWindPencil
Summary: Three times the Doctor stops by Torchwood. (rated for language, injury, trauma, suicidal thoughts/intentions, and other not-so-good things)
1. Chapter 1

**So I've had this first chapter written since *checks* March 1st. Oops. **

**Disclaimer- I could say that all I really own is my music, but I steal some of that too.**

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><p>The first time the Doctor drops in by Torchwood, he just sort of…walks in.<p>

It's something along the lines of three in the afternoon and Ianto is busy trying make himself look busy at the strikingly public reception desk of Torchwood when he hears a knock at the door, followed by two more after a split second's hesitation. He glances up from the papers he's been scribbling occasional notes such as 'pick up milk' and 'look for Regualairan hairdryer in archives' on, and instead fixes his gaze on the door.

_'Knock, knock, knock'_

The knocks on the door are faster this time around, some blend of impatience and desperation intermixed into the noises. Ianto doesn't quite understand. Most people just _open the door._

Still, he stands up from behind the desk and makes his way across the Tourist Information Centre, over to the door.

_Knock-_

"I'm coming!" Ianto barks, hand closing around the brass doorknob as he turned it. He pulls the door open and almost understands why the man on the porch didn't knock. Knocking is what most people do, and this man is most certainly not most people.

The man before him is tall and thin with spiky brown hair that is plastered to his forehead from the downpour of rain outside. He's clad in a blue pinstripe suit and a brown coat of equal length and grandeur of Jack's own World War Two jacket, and, of all things, he's wearing _converse._

Also, he's not carrying a pizza.

This throws Ianto for a loop because about ninety nine percent of people that come into this building are bearing some kind of cardboard box with an alluring smell, and the other one percent are just lost. Ianto quickly places this man in the later category.

"I think you've got the wrong address." The Welshman says, all professionalism and smiles. The man glances up at Ianto, expression eerily blank.

"I really don't." He replies. Ianto draws his eyebrows together and opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, the other man is shoving past him and into the office. He stalks across the room, behind the desk, whips something out of his pocket, somehow activates the supposedly hidden control under the desk, and strides through the panel that is now both existent and open, leading into Torchwood, all in the same window of time that it takes for Ianto to regain his balance from being pushed aside.

The man is well into the hallway by the time Ianto manages to get to the entrance he disappeared through and soon enough the stranger is at the rolling metal door, waving something blue tipped and metal at said door, and to Ianto's undisguised shock it rolls open, and this man more or less walks into the British government's best kept secret.

Ianto Jones has seen aliens and gods and the most ridiculous, impossible things you could imagine, alongside a lot more that you couldn't and though it all, he's managed to keep an air of calm and composure. For the first time, he can't quite manage that, and as the man walks into the Hub, his mouth falls open and he has no idea what to do.

Approximately half a second later, reality catches up with Ianto and he flat out sprints through the still open rolling door, after the man, accompanied by absolutely bewildered yells of 'What the _hell?!_' He comes to a stop so abrupt it was almost comical as he scans the Hub quickly and finds the man to be leaning over a keyboard in the currently unoccupied main level, fingers skittering over the keys, evidently unconcerned by Ianto, who is looking on with utter disbelief.

"Jack!' Ianto shouts and still the man doesn't so much as flinch.

A second passes, two, and just as Ianto thinks that the Immortal has gone off somewhere, the door to Jack's office flies open and Jack himself races across the balcony, leaning over the railing.

"Ianto?" He calls, an edge of anxiousness in his voice. He glances to the younger man and Ianto gestures furiously to the man at the computer. Jack's gaze follows, and when he sees the slight man, his expression contorts to surprise, then confusion, worry, anger, and shock once more.

"Doctor?!" He says, voice jumping up in pitch. "What the hell?"

For the first time, the man, now named as the Doctor (and Ianto just _knows_ he's heard that title before), responds, turning his attention away from the monitor to glance at Jack instead.

"Captain." He acknowledges calmly before returning to his task, and Ianto feels his confusion multiply tenfold. In a flash, Jack is down the stairs, racing towards the Doctor. He stops probably five feet away from him and spends several moments being speechless.

"He just...walked past me." Ianto offers in lieu of the silence. Jack doesn't answer and Ianto isn't really sure that the other man has heard him because he's too busy gaping at the Doctor.

"Wha- why- what're you doing?" Jack eventually sputters. The Doctor doesn't reply for a minute, too absorbed by whatever it is that he's doing to answer Jack. After a moment, he takes a step back from the keyboard, running a hand through his hair. He turns to Jack.

"Hello, Jack." He greets. Jack blinks.

"What the hell was that all about?" He asks, confusion laden in his voice as he glanced the Time Lord up and down, taking in his (remarkably disheveled) appearance. The Captain doesn't ask about that though, not at the moment at least.

The Doctor hesitates for a moment before answering.

"Stopped in Cardiff for the TARDIS to refuel and she was picking up some strange readings. Not entirely unexpected, what with the Rift tearing a hole in reality and all, but still, figured it couldn't hurt to check on your systems." Pause. "According to the TARDIS, it was either readings from a generator or the Rift was about to collapse in on itself and probably destroy earth in the process."

Silence.

"Well?" Questions Jack. "Which was it?"

"Hmm? Oh, you don't need to worry, it was just a generator going a bit haywire. The world's not going to end-" The Doctor breaks off, frowning slightly. "Well, it might. But still. Won't be from this."

There's a pause in which Jack is about to say something, but before he gets the chance, the Doctor spins on his heels to face Ianto. Jack doesn't fail to miss the way that the Doctor very nearly falls over, just barely catching himself, nor does he miss just how sickly the grin that he flashes Ianto is.

"Sorry 'bout earlier, Ianto." He apologizes. "Thought I might have to prevent a catastrophe and I guess I forgot my manners in the process."

"It's alright, sir." Ianto replies, his words sounding more like a question than he had intended.

"...Right then!" The Doctor starts, startling Jack with the sudden energy he was projecting. "I should probably be off, don't want to be bothering you-"

His words are cut off as Jack grabs the Time Lord's wrist and, Christ, he can _feel_ his friend's shaking frame in his own steady hand.

"You're not bothering us, Doc." Jack says, voice deceptively calm. He wants the Doctor to feel like he has a choice in whether he stays or not, even though he doesn't. Because Jack just knows that the second the Time Lord feels an ounce of pressure to stay, he'll bolt out of Torchwood in record time and won't bother to show up for another regeneration.

The Doctor waves his free hand dismissively.

"Sure I am. You've got stuff to do, there's no reason for me to slow you down with all of that."

Jack gives a derisive snort and motions around the Hub.

"No one else is here, Doc. I let the rest of the team go home hours ago. It's a slow day."

The Doctor blinks, and for a second Jack could swear there's anger present on his features before it passes and a grin takes its place, bright and brittle and paper thin.

"If you're sure-" He begins.

"Of course I'm sure." Jack confirms. "You're always welcome at Torchwood, Doctor."

The Doctor looks as though he's about to say something, but before he can, Ianto's voice cuts through.

"I know I've seen you before." The Welshman says, voice steady and slightly accusatory. "Who are you, exactly?"

"I- I'm just a traveler. That's all."

"Jack doesn't ever stop talking about you, you know." Ianto mentions slowly, and there's just a twinge of jealousy there. The Doctor glances to Jack, genuine surprise etched on his features.

"Oh, well, we're a bit similar, I suppose. Both wanderers in a sense of the word, neither of us can quite fathom Torchwood One's utter incompetence...we're two of a kind. I imagine it would be a bit hard to shut up about me." The Time Lord joked, recovering from his earlier surprise. At the latter part of the Doctor's sentence, specifically, at the words 'Torchwood One', Ianto's spine stiffened and he glanced the Doctor over again, really taking in every detail this time around, and something very much like hate flashes in his eyes.

Jack sees this immediately. He's been watching for it, really. Because sometimes Ianto is just too damn clever for his won good, and Jack knew, just _knew_, that the younger man would catch on quickly, figure out exactly what Jack didn't want him to in no time flat.

So he steps in between the broad shouldered Welshman and the unhealthily thin Time Lord and shoots Ianto a pointed glance.

"A word, Ianto." The Immortal says, voice sharp. Ianto glares at him, jaw clenched and the Doctor takes several steps back.

"If you want to just hang about in my office for a minute, Doctor." Jack says without looking at the other man in question. The Time Lord seems to hear the hidden command and starts towards the stairs leading up to the balcony without argument for once. Jack watches as he reaches the top , opens the door to his own office, and steps in, letting the door close behind him. The Captain opens his mouth to speak, but Ianto beats him to it, pouring out years of hate and resentment and betrayal.

"He was at Canary Wharf, Jack! He was there, he made it happen, and you just let him stay here even though you know that?! The bastard took you away from us for a whole year, and you come back, and you won't say _anything _about _anything_, and you still trust him?!" Ianto nearly shouts and Jack winces, in part because the door to his office can't possibly be quieting Ianto's words any, but also because they _hurt._

"It- it's not like that, Ianto." Jack says, voice remarkably steady.

"Then what's it like?!" Ianto snarls.

"That- Canary Wharf, and the Year, that...it wasn't his fault." The Immortal argued, mostly convinced of what he was saying. As flawed as the Doctor may be; a mad man with two broken hearts and a twisted soul, if there's one thing that Jack believes in, it's _him._ It has to be him, actually, because while the rest of Jack's world may die and waste away, the Doctor is the one constant in his life and he has to keep holding onto that.

Ianto gives a disbelieving snort at Jack's words.

"Of course those weren't his fault." He mutter, and Jack just wants to grab him and shake him by his shoulders until he _sees_. The Captain opens his mouth to say something, to try to convince Ianto of exactly why the Doctor deserves their respect, their help, their love, even, and then closes it again, knowing his words will fall on deaf ears.

"You- you have to know him." Is all he says, turning away from Ianto and starting for the stairs leading to his office. Jack knows that his words are true, just as he knows that Ianto won't believe them, because, to know the Doctor, to even come close to the illusion that you might understand him, you have to know the love and friendship and mercy that is the Time Lord, as well as the hate and fury and guilt that are just as much a part of him.

The Captain reaches the top of the stairs, twists the doorknob, and pushes the door open, stepping into the office. His gaze falls to the cot in the back of the room where the Doctor is sitting, posture slumped, face buried in hands, every inch of his screaming _exhausted._

"Doctor," Jack addresses, and the Time Lord snaps up to where his back is straight, facing Jack and flashing a grin just on this side of sane.

"Captain," He replies, voice too bright, too enthusiastic, for it to be anything but a lie. "You know, just glancing around down there, some of the stuff you've got lying around down there could rip apart the Time Vortex if you twitch it the wrong way-"

"Stop." Says Jack, cutting off the Time Lord's hundred mile an hour babble while cataloging the disturbing (and probably true) off hand remarks the man had just made about the potential disasters waiting to happen stored down stairs. "Just..._stop._

Something surprisingly like hurt flashes across teh Doctor's features, soon enough replaced by a perfectly blank expression as he does what Jack says, clamping his mouth shut and studying the Immortal intently.

"I'm sorry, but you just...need to slow down."

_'In speech, in thought, in life, before you turn an unexpected corner and spin out of control, into a fiery wreak-'_

"Right." The Doctor replies, slower this time around, cutting of Jack's train of thought. "Sorry 'bout that. You really should take care of some of those artifacts, though."

Jack nods, waving a dismissive hand as he does so.

"Yeah, I will, but..." He glances up to the Doctor and trails off, the words he was about to speak, lost. Because when he looks at the Time Lord, really looks at him, there's something about him, a desperation in his eyes that he can't quite mask and Jack can't help but think that it doesn't quite line up with his claim for why he came to Torchwood in the first place

"...Are you sure that those readings are the only reason that you stopped by here, Doc?"

The Doctor flinches slightly at this, but gives no other reaction.

"Of course, Jack." He replies, perfectly calm. "Why else would I stop by?" He asks, and Jack has to admit that he does a pretty good imitation of genuine curiosity because those words had hurt, and the Immortal know that they were supposed to. Their very purpose had been to sting and drive Jack away from anything even remotely close to the truth. Jack knows this, knows the game that the Time Lord is playing at, because he himself has played it one too many times, and he knows how to turn it against the other man in what he hopes to be a beneficial way.

"I dunno, maybe to see the rest of the team, or the Hub, or me." Jack says as casually as he can manage. The Doctor merely shrugs in answer. Jack hesitates some, not quite sure how to phrase his next question. He decides, taking in how unnaturally pale the Doctor is and the unhealthy thinness that afflicts his body, that perhaps, in this incidence, being direct is his best option.

"Are you sure that you didn't stop by to just..._rest_ for a while?"

The Doctor stiffens. Blinks. Looks to Jack. Opens his mouth to respond. Closes it again.

"Are you alright?" Jack asks, and even he can hear how worried he sounds. The Doctor is quiet a moment.

"I'm always alright..." He mutters.

"_Doctor-"_ Jack starts, frustration leaking into his voice.

"No, really." The Doctor interrupts, louder and more confident this time around. "I'm fine."

"As fine as you ever are." Jack corrects.

"Exactly." The Doctor confirms.

"Which isn't really fine at all."

"Captain. Look at me. I'm perfectly alright."

Jack fights the urge to laugh, to point out the bags underneath his friend's eyes, the skinniness that his suit does little to hide.

This is what he says instead.

"It's just...I never know where, or when, you are, Doc. I never know what you've gotten yourself into and I-" He pauses. "I don't want the next time I see you to be in a UNIT morgue." He finishes, done juggling words.

"It won't be." The Doctor quickly counters.

"And how can I be sure of that?!"

The Doctor gives a small sigh, watching the Ex-Time Agent with care.

"Can you just trust me on this?" He asks.

Jack wants to say that, no, he can't really trust the Doctor on this. That he's seen the Time Lord attempt to fulfill his own death wish one or two or seven too many times for him to place absolute faith in the other man on this matter.

The Doctor apparently notices Jack's quiet and takes it for the distrust that it is.

"Jack...I- I'm not going to lie and say that there;s no chance of me getting killed. You _know_ how I live. But...I'm not going to _try_ to get myself killed." He flashes a weak grin. "C'mon, I'm too important for that." He jokes, and though the comment was meant to lighten the mood, Jack wants to grab the Doctor by his shoulders and tell him that it's true, that he _is_ too damn important to get himself killed, that he's too important to even joke about it.

"Please, Jack. I wouldn't lie to you about something like this."

Jack knows that the Doctor doesn't mean that, knows that the closer he gets to the truth, the more carefully calculated the lies that the Doctor deploys are. And while that scares him, really and truly shakes him to the core, there's something about the Doctor in this moment, and he finds the older man's words strangely reassuring.

He nods.

'Alright, Doc."

The Time Lord sighs slightly, leaning against the wall behind him.

"...I really should leave..." He mutters, mostly to himself.

"You really shouldn't." Jack counters swiftly. The Doctor glances to Jack, looks as if he's about to argue, but the Immortal speaks before he can.

"Please. Just for a while. A couple of hours. Ianto will be ordering pizza in a while. We can catch up."

The Doctor is silent for a moment, and Jack can glimpse past and see the argument going on behind his carefully crafted visage, _stayleaverestsunfriendenemysafetydangerwantneedcalmfear-  
><em>

And suddenly it's over. The Doctor looks at Jack, really looks at him, and gives a nearly unpercievable nod.

"Alright." He agrees, voice quiet.

Jack grins.

"I'll let Ianto know.

**~oOo~**

"You're sure you don't want anything else?" Asked Ianto. The Doctor smiled and shook his head.

"I'm fine, Ianto." He replies easily.

Jack is quiet, watching the pair's interaction with a fixed fascination. He'd been hesitant at first, hesitant to even let them within speaking distance of each other, fearing that Ianto would lash out with hate and anger and blame, afraid that the Doctor would crack under the words and shirk away, disappearing the moment Jack dared to turn his back.

And while they hadn't been exactly warm to each other at first, slowly, so very slowly, the icy glares and frosty tones had thawed into something a bit less like hate and a bit more like...if not camaraderie, then perhaps respect.

Which had, of course, led to Ianto offering the Doctor pizza and confusing Jack beyond all possible belief. The Captain has seen Daleks and Weevils and alien plots so complex you would need seven dimensions to fully see them for what they were, but never has he thought that he would see this; Ianto and the Doctor, sitting across from each other with only a box of pizza in between them, making _small talk._

They're being _friendly._

Honestly, Jack's not sure he'll ever be properly surprised again.

Without warning, the Doctor stands up from the sofa he'd previously been relaxing on, and there's something about his posture, a defensive aggression he can't quite hide, and Jack knows what's going to happen next.

"T's nearly ten o'clock, Jack-" It's only eight thirty, but Jack lets it slide. "I'd best be going."

Jack nods slightly, notices the relief that floods across the Doctor's features. He's not offended, exactly, but he really does wish that his friend would stick around just a bit longer.

The Doctor starts towards the Hub's exit, long brown coat flowing behind him. Ianto seems to be vaguely confused at the Doctor's sudden departure, but doesn't say anything.

"Doc!" Jack calls. The Doctor stops and turns around. "Not so fast!" Jack says, smiling slightly.

"Right." The Doctor replies. "Of course. I'll see you around, Ianto." He pauses, glances to Jack. "Captain." He says, giving a two fingered salute. Jack snaps to attention and returns it.

"Doctor."

The Doctor gives a nod of acknowledgment and turns to leave again.

"And, Doc!"

The Time Lord pauses.

"Any time you need to stop by, for any reason...we'll be here. You're always welcome at Torchwood."

The Doctor doesn't answer, but there's a lighter note in his step as he walks, almost a bounce, and Jack thinks that his message got though. The Doctor stops at the rolling door nad sonics it, watching as the mass of metal and gears opens.

"I'll see you later then, Jack. Ianto."

"Y-yes, sir." Ianto stammers out.

"You'd better!" Jack called, a smile pulling at his lips.

Without a word, the Doctor's coat trail disappears from view.

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><p><strong>So the second chapter to this is already typed up and ready to be posted whenever. Just so you know. If there's anything in particular you want to see leave it in a review or send me a PM about it, I always reply. Anywho, thanks for reading, have a fantastic day, and DFTBA!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Here be the second chapter. Still don't own it.**

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><p>The second time the Doctor comes to Torchwood, Jack more or less drags him in.<p>

They're out- he and Ianto and Gwen and Toshiko and Owen, not even really doing anything, just walking about Cardiff, on their way to a frankly fantastic Chinese place to pick up some lunch, taking advantage of a slow day, when Jack spots him.

He stops. Just stops, dead in his tracks, and ignores the muttered swear from Owen when the medical doctor almost runs into him.

"The hell, Jack?" Owen asks, not bothering to disguise his irritation. Jack doesn't answer. At least, not at first, because it's not Owen's voice that's capturing most of his attention. Rather, it's a man that's stolen his focus.

It's a man who's sitting on a bench, back facing towards Jack. A man with spiky brown hair and a brown trench coat that collects perfectly at his feet, just millimeters above the sidewalk pavement. A man that looks suspiciously like-

"Doctor?!" Jack nearly yelps. The man on the bench flinches and turns to face where Jack stands, and sure enough, it's the Doctor. Jack starts towards the bench and after half a second's hesitation, so does Ianto. By the time the pair reach him, the Time Lord has stood up and shoved both hands into his coat's pockets.

"What're you doing in Cardiff?" Jack questioned, placing his own hands in his coat.

"Oh, you know, I'm just out and about..." The Doctor said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Sitting on our city's lovely benches?" Jack grins. He hasn't seen the Doctor in months and he's doing his best to restrain himself, to avoid hugging him and asking how he's doing, to avoid showing too much concern for the other man's well being.

Not that there actually seems to be too much to be concerned about for once. The Doctor's eyes are slightly unfocused at times, and he's a bit thinner than Jack would like, but other than that he appears to be mostly fine.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, Jack." The Doctor answers, wearing a small smile. "Ianto!" He greets, turning to the Welshman.

'Hello, sir."

The Doctor winces slightly.

"Not 'sire, never sir. Just Doctor is fine." He says, the discomfort in his voice nearly tangible. Ianto nods.

"Right, s- Doctor."

Jack motions to the rest of his team, who are standing int he middle of the sidewalk, looking entirely baffled.

"We're heading to a Chinese place to pick up lunch, if you want to join us." He offers. The Doctor's gaze flashes to the group that Jack had mentioned before returning to Jack and Ianto. After a slightly hesitation he starts towards the group, a light 'Why not?', following him.

Jack and Ianto glance at each other, shrug, and start after the Time Lord.

'Who's this then, Jack?" It's Gwen who's speaking, nodding towards the Doctor.

Jack has had years to plan this conversation out, has had hours dedicated to thinking about how he would introduce this enigma of a man to his team on the chance he ever dropped by when they were around. At Gwen's inquiry, he promptly forgets all this.

"He's the Doctor." Is what the Captain says, because honestly, there's no other way to describe him. Gwen arches an eyebrow, clearly needing a bit more of an explanation than Jack's just given. So he continues. "Bit of a traveler. We're friends."

Jack very pointedly ignore the skeptical snort this earns from Owen.

The Doctor gives a small wave and greets the team as Ianto glares daggers at Owen.

The Time Lord flashes a quick smile to the group and starts off by Ianto's side, chattering away with the Welshman.

Jack beckons the rest of his team to follow as he catches up with Ianto and the Doctor, a smile gracing his features as his friend rambles on about some tangent that Jack can't possibly hope to find the derivative of.

Jack doesn't care.

The Doctor is doing well.

**~oOo~**

Jack frowns slightly, staring at the Doctor over his plate of orange chicken and rice. He's beginning to reassess earlier conclusion of the Doctor's well being. He's beginning to reassess a lot of things, actually, like hoe he thought this would just be a casual visit.

It's only been an hour perhaps, but already the Time Lord is sending up various red flags. He's gesturing wildly over his glass of iced tea (the only thing he'd ordered,claiming that he wouldn't want to help Torchwood to achieve the financial ruin of England, one plate of chicken at a time), and while his stories weren't all that unusual, Jack suspected that the energy he was projecting was meant to distract from his actual physical condition.

The physical condition that, the longer Jack studied it, the more pronounced his frown became. While the last time the Doctor had stopped in at Torchwood, he hadn't exactly been a picture of perfect health, Jack can say with confidence that his hands had definitely not been shaking then, either.

They were now. Any time that they stopped moving, there was a prominent tremble in them, and Jack was focusing on that a hell of a lot more than he was the half true words flowing from his friend's mouth.

The Doctor broke off from one of his stories -something about sentient pillows- and glanced to Jack, grinning.

"Come on, then, Jack. Martha's got to have told you about this." He chastises. Jack gives a slight nod and the grin slides off the Doctor's face, like oil off glass.

"What's up?" He asks. leaning across the table.

Beat.

"Nothing." Jack dismisses easily after just a moment. "Just a bit distracted is all."

The Doctor doesn't look like he really believes Jack, concern scrawled across his features and Jack nearly laughs at the irony of the Time Lord being concerned over him when it should be the other way around. Is the other way around most of the time.

The Ex Time Agent flashes his own trademark flirty grin and prays that the Doctor's own experience with this tactic won't clue him into Jack's own use of it.

"Although I do seem to remember Martha mentioning something about it once or twice. Was on Calypsus, wasn't it?" Jack asks, feigning interest. Rather well, it seems, as the Doctor doesn't appear to pick up on it. Instead he smiles and nods.

"Yeah. Well, technically Calypsus IV, bit still"

"Right."

Actually, Jack can't decide if he's an exceptional actor or it the Doctor's just not picking up on what should be obvious giveaways. He's looking antsy, constantly glancing around like an animal stuck in a cage, and it occurs to Jack that he might not be paying attention to much other than potential escape routes.

And quite suddenly, Jack has had enough of being in the dark with the Doctor. He stands abruptly, glancing around the table.

"I've had my fill." He says, glancing to the Doctor. "Really should be headed back to the Hub, make sure that nothing's come up."

The Doctor shoots out of his own chair, standing at the end of the table next to Jack, confirming the Captain's suspicions for his plan of flight.

Strengthening his resolve to find out exactly why the Doctor was so eager to leave.

At Jack's words, Gwen rolls her eyes slightly and Owen gives a snort. Ianto nods to Jack and the Immortal starts towards the restaurant's exit, side by side with the Doctor. The pair step outside and the Doctor turns to face Jack.

"Right then. Thanks for the tea and all, Jack. But if you're headed for the Hub then I really should be getting back to the TARDIS."

Last time, Jack had wanted to grab the Doctor and shake him until he would listen to reason. Last time, though, the Doctor had also been, as he'd pointed out, more or less fine. And seeing as how Jack, even if he had no real reason to believe the Doctor's word on the matter, also had no evidence that the other man wasn't fine, there really had been nothing he could have said or done to keep the Doctor around.

This time, Jack has no such obstacle.

He grabs the Doctor by his shoulders (too thin, too bony, shaking too much) and notes the momentary surprise on his features. Jack ignore it, because if he really wants to help the Doctor right now, he can't actually think about him too much.

"Don't go."

This isn't exactly what Jack had been planning to say, and it comes out as more of a plead as opposed to something which he had hoped would at least vaguely resemble authority.

The Doctor gives infuriatingly little reaction and Jack can't help but think that he's been expecting this.

Of course he had. Half the time the Doctor seemed to know exactly what somebody was going to say or do half an hour before they even thought of doing it. He'd probably been trying to think his way out of this conversation since he'd first seen Jack.

Jack realizes this and almost punches something, but the only thing within range is the Doctor and that's sure as hell not about to happen.

"Please. Stay."

He's also been planning to be quite a lot more composed about this whole thing, but evidently that's not about to happen. So when the Doctor still doesn't do anything; doesn't say anything, doesn't move, doesn't so much as twitch, Jack shakes him, properly shakes him, and looks him dead in the eye.

"You're not alright,I can tell, Doc. Don't you dare tell me that you are, 'cause I know it's not true. You're _shaking_, Doc, and you're scaring me."

"Please, Jack, I'm fine-"

"You're not fine!" Jack snaps. He's really been hoping that the Time Lord would be at least somewhat sensible, wouldn't push Jack away. "You're shaking and you're pale and you're flinching at every little fucking noise, and I don't care what you say, but you're a damn sight skinnier than the last time I saw you!"

The Doctor tenses at Jack's words and he knows he's hit a nerve.

"I- I couldn't- Astrid, I couldn't help her, wasn't-" His words are broken and raw, and all of a sudden Jack's arms are wrapped around him and the Doctor practically melts into the warmth of the Captain's coat, taking shuttering breaths even as his eyes remain stubbornly dry. Several passerby on the street are staring, confused, and Jack glares at them, silently daring them to say something. They avert their gaze to the ground and continue on their ways down the sidewalk. Jack holds the Doctor tighter and leans down to the head that's buried in his shoulder.

"Come back with us." He mutters. Hopes.

The Doctor lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Jack, refusing to look at him.

"Yeah." He agrees. "Think I will" Beat. "Rassilon knows what would happen if Torchwood was allowed to go unchecked for too long."

Jack smirks slightly at this and starts down the sidewalk, the Doctor walking with him. The Time Lord is silent for a time and after a while, Jack places an arm around the other man's shoulders. A flash of happiness flickers across the Doctor's features and Jack smiles slightly at this.

He remembers the Doctor's entire facade cracking in his hold, just a short while ago, and the smile vanishes.

**~oOo~**

"Doc!"

The Doctor spins around to face Jack and just barely catches the small metal object being hurled towards him before it falls to the ground. He scowls at Jack

"You could've given me a bit of warning, you know." He mutters, though there's no real venom in his voice. Jack shrugs.

"Noted. Have you got any idea what that is, though?" He questions. motioning to the Doctor's hands.

The Doctor leans back against the wall as he continues to sit on Jack's cot int the Immortal's office, turning the metal cube over in his hands.

"Just a guess, but it looks like a speaker from Ritex." He said, still examining the cube.

"A speaker. Like, for music?"

The Doctor glanced up to Jack.

"Yeah." He confirmed.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Jack shrugged.

"How about that," He said, watching the Time Lord's hands. They're still shaking, though not as much as before. Jack suspects that this is only because the Doctor is actively focusing on keeping them somewhat steady. He looks the Doctor over again, taking in the bags under the Time Lord's eyes, his slumped posture.

"When was the last time you slept?" He asked, voice sharp as it cuts though the silence. The Doctor flinches slightly, snapping his attention back up to Jack.

"...Dunno." He replies after a moment, averting his gaze from the Captain.

"_Doctor." _Jack presses, scrutinizing the other man.

Pause.

"...Maybe a month?" The Doctor eventually says, sighing as he puts the cube on the cot and runs his hands through his hair. Jack lets out a particularly volatile swear and the Doctor's gaze flickers to him.

"Not human." He reminds Jack.

Jack scowls slightly.

"Maybe not, but that's like a human going without sleep for a week." He says, and the Doctor doesn't bother to argue with him. Instead, he gives a mild mannered,

"I'm well aware of that, Captain."

"Then why are you fucking doing it?" Jack snarls. The Doctor's jaw clenches and he drops his head to study the floor which has quite suddenly captured his undivided attention.

"Language, Jack." He mutters and Jack feels every ounce of anger drain from him, just like that. He sighs slightly and looks at the Time Lord. Just looks.

"Sorry." He apologizes. The Doctor gives a small shrug.

"Don't be."

Silence ensues.

"But really though," Jack starts. "Why haven't you been sleeping?" His voice is softer this time around, gentler, but that doesn't seem to stop the other man from tensing and Jack knows that he'll be getting half truths, meant to distract and reassure, before the Doctor even opens his mouth.

"Been forgetting." He offers. "Lot going on lately, sleeping hasn't been something I've really been making a point to do."

Jack snorts.

"You're exhausted. Of course you know that you need sleep, you can feel it, and not even you are that ignorant to your body, Doc." Pause. "Try again."

"Maybe I don't want to be sleeping, Captain!" The Doctor exclaims, voice closer to a growl than not. Jack is slightly taken aback by the Doctor's outburst, even if he's not exactly surprised by it. He's been halfway expecting the Time Lord's hot, flashy anger to arise when smiles and lies failed him. "Maybe I don't want to see death and blood and fire every time I close my eyes!"

He's shaking again, his entire body trembling, and his voice is cracking more with every word. Without warning, his posture, rigid and tall, slumps and he leans against the wall, eyes screwing shut.

For a moment, both Jack and the Doctor are quiet. The energy seems to have drained out of the Doctor as he stays sunken against the wall, and Jack...Jack doesn't know what to say. He'd been thinking that the Doctor's refusal to sleep had been born out of his own blatant disregard for his health; never had he imagined that there would be something like this fueling it instead.

"God, I'm sorry, Doc..." The Captain says. Sorry that the best man Jack has ever known was plagued by a past he hadn't chosen, sorry that Jack himself didn't know what to do or say, didn't know how to help a man this broken.

"Of course you're sorry." The Doctor says, and if Jack isn't mistaken, he giggles. Short and choked, but still. He twitches slightly and his eyes snap open. "No, I'm sorry, Jack-"

"Doctor."

The Time Lord falls silent and Jack stares at him. He'd known that the Doctor wasn't alright, but that right there, it had bordered on manic. Concern welled anew in Jack's chest, alongside something very like fear for the man sitting across from himself. The Immortal opens his mouth to say something, but the Doctor stands up with the metal cube in his hand and Jack knows that it really doesn't matter what he says right now, because at this point, the Doctor is very much through discussing anything remotely important or personal.

"This really should be filed into your archives." He notes mildly, refusing to meet Jack's gaze. Jack gives a resigned sigh and nods.

"Probably, yeah." He agrees.

The Doctor blinks and opens the door to Jack's office, starting down the balcony stairs without another word. He damn near falls down half the flight and Jack swears under his breath as he follows the Time Lord. Jack clenches his jaw but doesn't comment.

For once in his life, he really doesn't know what to say.

**~oOo~**

When the Doctor trips for the seventh time and nearly hits his head on an archive shelf, just barely catching himself in time, Jack stops giving a damn about having the right things to say, and clasps both his hands on the Doctor's shoulder, studying him.

"You. Sleep. _Now." _The last word is spoken as a growled command, because Jack has also stopped giving a damn about the Doctor's opinion on this matter, seeing as how that opinion has reduced the usually decently healthy Time Lord to the exhausted mess of a man before him. When the Doctor doesn't bother to argue, Jack swallows the worry that forms a lump in his throat and instead props the Doctor's right arm over his own shoulders for support.

He doesn't quite trust the Time Lord with such tasks as walking at the moment.

Jack more or less leads him up the two flights of stairs it takes to reach his office. He opens the door, walks the Doctor to his bed, and watches as he collapses onto it, not even bothering to shed his coat as he lays down, curling into himself on his side. Jack wordlessly draws the cot's blankets over the Time Lord. He wants tosay something, to speak words of apology and assurance and love, but the words don't present themselves and he can't seem to find them.

"Sleep well, Doc." Is what he says instead. When the Doctor gives no reply, Jack glances down to him. His eyes are closed, breathing even, expression relaxed.

Asleep.

**~oOo~**

Jack has been planning on sorting out the archives while he was more or less alone in the Hub and had the time.

What he ends up doing is a menial amount of paperwork and a lot of watching the Doctor sleep. He tells himself that it's not as strange as it sounds, because he's making sure that the Doctor is alright. He knows that he's just lying to himself.

Truth be told, it's just _weird_ to see the Doctor sleeping, and strangely fascinating. Never has he seen the Time Lord keep so eerily still. He doesn't keep exactly still, of course. There are times when he twitches in his sleep and squirms and lets out noises distressingly close to whimpers. Jack doesn't quite know what to do during these times, so he walks to the Doctor and sits next to him, with a hand on the other man's shoulder and reassuring words in his ear.

That seems to help.

The Doctor has been asleep for seven hours and Jack is beginning to worry. The rest had returned a few hours earlier and Jack had shooed them away, telling them to take the rest of the day off. Mostly, he just wanted to be alone with the Doctor when he woke up, no interruptions, but he's starting to wish that he'd kept Owen around. Seven hours is an obscenely long time for a Time Lord to sleep, from what Jack understands. He's beginning to think that the Doctor was just saying that he hadn't slept in a month. He avoids thinking about how long it's really been.

Finally, _finally,_ the Time Lord's eyes flutter open and he blinks in confusion, disoriented by his surroundings for a fraction of a second. Recognition flashes across his features and he sits up, still somewhat tangled in the mess of blankets Jack had amassed atop of him in his sleep.

"...Blimey." He says, running a hand through his already mussed up hair, causing it to stick up even more. He glances around the office again, his gaze settling on Jack, seeming to have just noticed the other man who was still behind his desk.

"Yeah." Jack agrees, voice soft.

"...How long has it been?" The Doctor asks.

"About seven hours." The Captain replies.

Pause. Then,

"Shit." The Doctor mutters under his breath.

"That's what I've been thinking, too, Doc." Jack says, standing up from behind his desk and walking over to the cot. "Mind telling me how long it's really been since you've slept?"

The Doctor blinks.

"About thirty seconds, I should think, Ja-"

_"Stop."_ Jack commands.

The Doctor stops.

"Don't know." He says, voice flat. "Lost track a while ago."

Jack lets out a very controlled breath and gives a humorless chuckle.

"Don't do that again." He says, and there's really not even an inch of room in his voice for objection. "_Really_ don't do that again."

There may not have been any room for argument, but that doesn't seem to stop the Doctor from trying. He opens his mouth, but before he can utter a syllable, Jack cuts him off.

"You do this to yourself again and you won't see the TARDIS key for the rest of this century."

The Doctor gapes at Jack in open mouthed shock.

"You wouldn't-"

"I would."

Silence.

"Are we understood, Doc?" Jack asks. He really doesn't like doing this, doesn't like forcing his friend into a corner with no way out, but, God damnit, he's _scared_ and he needs to have some sort of way to make sure that the Time Lord will at least try to take care of himself.

"We're understood." The Doctor responds.

"Good."

They stare at each other for a moment, neither really sure what to say until Jack finally breaks the silence.

"There's some left over pizza from last night downstairs, if you're hungry." He mentions as he starts out his office. The Doctor hesitates for just a second before shooting off of the cot and joining Jack down the stairs.

"Hungry?" Jack smirks.

"Starving."

The word is harmless, but Jack can't help but twitch as it come's from the thinner-than-he-would-like-Doctor.

They reach the bottom of the stairs and the Doctor walks with an almost irritating efficiency to the table with several cardboard boxes adorning it. He flips one open and has wolfed down two slices in the time it takes for Jack to work through half of one. The Captain is almost concerned with how quickly the Time Lord is eating, but mostly he's just glad that the Doctor is doing so without being pressured. He doesn't ask how long it's been.

The Doctor eats a third piece and Jack himself has a couple more and soon enough they're back down in the archives, the Time Lord rambling on at a hundred miles an hour about _something_, Jack isn't really sure _what_, and sometimes the language filling the air doesn't sound like english at all, but he lets it slide as he files various bits of alien technology, occasionally asking the Doctor what something is, nodding and giving a slight grunt of agreement to the Doctor's babble every once in a while. They spend maybe three hours down there before Jack starts noticing the Doctor's decline in energy, his voice slowing and movements not quite as sudden. It's perhaps another hour before the Time Lord's voice ceases entirely and Jack glances over his shoulder to find the Doctor slumped against a shelf, head sunken against his chest, eyes slid shut. The Captain gives a small smile and walks next to the Doctor, then leans down and picks him up.

The Doctor may be thin, but he's also tall and bony and awkward, and Jack can only support his unevenly distributed weight for so long. So he hurries up the two flights of stairs needed to reach his office and drops the Doctor onto his bed, maybe just a bit more roughly than he had intended. Glancing up at the clock -it's well past midnight- Jack suddenly becomes aware of his own fatigue. He looks to the Doctor, figures that the other man really won't mind, and sheds his heavy wool coat before clambering into the cot as well, taking the role of the big spoon as he lay next to the Doctor, draping his own arm over the smaller man's chest.

Jack has imagined the scene a thousand times, though never exactly like this. There's never three layers of clothes between them in his fantasies, and somehow, though it lacks most of what the Immortal longs for, there's an intimacy that nothing in his imagination can quite conjure. Jack decides that he's perfectly alright with this as his eyelids flutters shut and his breathing slows, the consistently slightly cooler than himself Time Lord pressed up against his front, still and content.

Tonight, this is how the universe's watchmen sleep.

**~oOo~**

The Doctor stays for another seventeen hours.

Jack awakes the next morning to a very still Doctor. Too still to possibly be asleep, so-

"How long have you been awake for, then?"

Shrug.

"A while."

It's not really an answer, but Jack lets it pass as the Time Lord stands up and stretches, pacing around the office. Jack, too, stands up, and together they wander down to the main level of the Hub, only somewhat surprised that the rest of the team is already there.

Jack greets the team, ignores Owen's lewd remarks, and retrieves some coffee from Ianto, assuring the younger man that absolutely nothing had happened the night before with the Doctor, that he wouldn't lie, not about this, not to him. For his part, Ianto seems to belive Jack's words and even offers to make the Doctor some tea. Jack smiles and thanks Ianto, saying that the Doctor takes his tea with no milk and four sugars. Ianto hesitates slightly at this, but recollects himself quickly and walks off, presumably to put the kettle on.

Meanwhile, the Doctor has set about the Hub with the apparent intention to familiarize himself with everybody. When Jack turns around, he's talking to Toshiko. The Doctor, at least, is speaking sith grand gestures to Tosh, who's talking more enthusiastically then Jack has seen in a very long while. The Captain heads over to the pair to find out what they're talking about.

"-'Cause, you see, the self renewing neutron loop would provide the energy to keep the whole thing stable. Welll, I say stable- Jack!" The Doctor spun around to face the Immortal, a smile lighting up his features. "Toshiko and I here were just discussing transdimensional stasis."

Jack blinked.

"That's...great." He said after a moment's hesitation. The Doctor nods quickly and turns back to Tosh, saying something about a coronal energy brooch.

They go on like this for another nine hours. The day is mostly full of paperwork and a basketball game or two in the early afternoon. The Doctor gives names and properties to aliens that Torchwood barely knew existed and Torchwood amazes the Time Lord with what he calls their 'stunningly incompetent records'. Jack scowls slightly at this, but there's no real venom in either the Doctor's words or the Captain's expression.

It's around seven at night when Jack finally realizes the Doctor's intention to leave. He's been a bit antsy for the last several hours and when he mentions getting back to the TARIDS to check on her systems with a glance to Jack, the Captain nods and makes hi way over to the other man.

"You're off, then?" He asks.

"Yeah." The Doctor replies. "It's been nice here, but I really should get back to the TARDIS sometime soon."

Jack nods.

"Right. I get it."

The Doctor shoves both hands into his coat's pockets and stares at the ground. Without warning, he starts towards the large metal door leading out of Torchwood.

"Doc!" Jack calls. The Time Lord turns around. Jack digs in hos pocket for a moment, then tosses a key at the Doctor, who catches it.

"What's it for?"

"Master key." Jack answers. "Not sure if you know this, but ever since you soniced our locks, they haven't worked right."

The Doctor rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Sorry 'bout that." He apologized bashfully.

"Yeah." Says Jack. "So next time you drop by, just use the key, alright?"

"Right."

"'Cause there _will_ be a next time, am I right?"

"'Course."

Jack flashes a wide grin and as the Doctor steps through the rolling door, the Time Lord turns and gives a two fingered salute. The Captain snaps to attention and returns the gesture.

"You're welcome here. Any time." Jack reminds him.

"I'll keep it in mind." The Doctor assures, turning away and starting down the hallway.

_"Vale!"_

* * *

><p><strong>Buffintruda and Meggles425- thanks for the ideas but it would appear that I suck and probably shouldn't have opened this up for suggestions. The third chapter is already fifty pages written and I'd have have had to rewrite quite a bit to introduce Tosh in a way I'd have liked. Oops. Sorry. Still, thanks for the reviews, I'll try to haVe the next chapter up sort of soonish but it's still not even done being written. Thanks for reading, have a great day, and DFTBA!<strong>


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